


A Bosook Fanfic

by allywonderland



Series: The Legend of Korra Shipping Fics [44]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 13:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allywonderland/pseuds/allywonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Short shipping fic, written on Tumblr, archived here.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bosook Fanfic

Three bowls in, Bolin felt his toes numbing, the sensation slowly spreading up his legs.

Seven in and he dropped his chopsticks on the floor; fumbled around for them, bent over at the waist, scouring the floor with hands and eyes both dulled in perception; bumped his head on the corner of the table, startling Pabu; and blushed, embarrassed, when a waitress put a hand over his, picked up the fallen chopsticks, and gave him a new pair with a small smile that was probably more knowing than she let on.

After two more bowls and a few drinks on the side he sighed, half-slammed his elbows into the table, and propped his chin in both hands, squishing his cheeks as hard as possible to make sure he could still feel the pads of his fingers.  Pabu chirped and curled over, twining around his arms and licking at his cheek; he told himself it was for sauce from the noodles and not—not anything else.  Certainly not _tears_.

He hiccupped and Narook offered his own smile from his booth that was definitely more knowing than Bolin appreciated, but—it was Narook.  At least Bolin could be sure he’d be open all night.

The lanterns were burning low when another body slid into the booth across from him, and Bolin squinted, vision hazy.  He squeezed his eyes shut, opened them, and when that didn’t help he blinked rapidly and said, surprised, “ _Hasook_?”

“Hey,” Hasook offered.

His chopsticks clinked against his bowl, dangling in his hand.  Pabu looked up from his own bowl, briefly, then ducked back.

Bolin tightened his grip on his chopsticks and hunched around his bowl.  “Go away, Hasook.”

“I saw you come in and I didn’t say anything, but now I’m—”

“Go _away_ , Hasook.”

Hasook snapped his jaw shut, eyes narrowing, but he crossed his arms and didn’t say anything.  Bolin glared, still angry, angry at _everything_ , not going to let Hasook, stupid _Hasook_ bother him, and eventually—eventually—went back to his noodles; half-heartedly, half-glaring at the bowl, because nothing helped.

Nothing.

“You know, after all the hullabaloo about the Fire Ferrets in the tournament with the Avatar, I really wasn’t expecting to see you like this.”

Bolin looked up at Hasook, mouth full of noodles, and mumbled through them, “’m not talking about it, Hasook.”

“And don’t you have the big match tomorrow?” Hasook asked.

“I’m _not talking about it_ , Hasook.”

Hasook tightened his crossed arms.  “Yeah?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Bolin said.

Hasook watched him, and Bolin couldn’t tell if he was glaring or looking with concern or envy or jealousy or anything, and then he said, abruptly, “Well, whatever.”

He stood and stalked out the door and Bolin watched him, a bit.

Definitely not wondering about what-ifs and maybes.

No, definitely still angry at everything.

Pabu chirped at him when he ordered another bowl, and before he could say anything about payment Narook told him that this one was already taken care of.


End file.
